


Nightlife

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-29
Updated: 2006-03-29
Packaged: 2019-02-02 13:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12727500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Sam looks into things.





	Nightlife

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

The SGC runs on a 24 hour basis, but at three in the morning the corridors are generally quiet. So, when I look up from my computer screen and stretch and think it is time for some human contact, there is only one other person I expect to find fully awake and aware. I have a little coffee maker in my office, but the coffee from Daniel's pot always tastes better, so I scoop up my mug and head for the revered (ha) Dr. Jackson's home away from home.

The door is closed, but I can see light spilling out from under it, so I let myself in. I start to call out a greeting when I hear a little noise. Daniel, my fellow scientist, SG-1's own archaeologist extraordinaire, is sprawled on his back on the small sofa sandwiched between two big bookcases. His glasses are clutched loosely in his left hand which is pressed against his tee-shirt covered chest. Said tee shirt is rucked up a little and I can see a swath of belly and the faint line of his appendectomy scar. His right hand is down his pants.

My-friend-the-mouth-breather's mouth is open slightly and the little noise I heard was definitely a moan, because I get to hear another one as I stand transfixed just inside the door. The ratio of men to women on the Stargate project is about ten to one, so the air in the complex is almost always testosterone laden, but not quite to the extreme here in Daniel's office tonight. My teammate's right hand is moving slowly, luxuriously, inside his pants, his breathing has ratcheted up a notch. I really, really should leave. Inaminute.

Daniel's face, yes, I am looking at his face now, is a study in stolen pleasure. His long eyelashes fan against his skin, his mouth is slightly pursed in internal concentration, his too-short hair is sticking up in tufts. His body freezes as his pleasure peeks, and he whispers a word, only one, very softly, but very clearly. He says, "Jack."

I leave as silently as I spent my visit. I have a lot to think about.

* * *

Two days later, I am still thinking as we leave for PFF 3333. We have taken to calling this planet PF Flyer, why, I don't know. The people and the animals are mostly nocturnal due to almost no protective ozone layer in the atmosphere, which is why we are starting out during their night which coincides with 4:00 a.m. our time. We've been a team for four years now, and we function by rote a lot of the time, so there are no surprises as we go over last minute details in the colonel's office. Jack is grouchy; he says he doesn't want to be awake at 4:00 a.m. unless he's night fishing.

Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before. I tell the guys I need to go back to my office to get one last print-out I want to go over. I knew I should have e-mailed it to Daniel's computer. Teal'c exits with me, muttering something about needing a zat gun. 

I grab the paper off my desk and hurry back toward Jack's office. I am totally alone as I move though the silent halls, and I find myself moving fluidly, not making sound. Slowing my pace, I pause just outside Jack's office. The door is ajar, open only a crack. Something makes me step lightly, silently, as I move closer to the wall. I stand outside, out of sight, and listen. Call it sixth sense, but they are alone in there, and...I want to know more.

I hear Colonel Jack O'Neill purring. Yes, the man I used to think of as *my colonel* is purring. We hemmed and hawed around one another quite a lot last year, but I never once heard his voice low and sultry like this. 

"Danny, stop, aw shit." It is obvious he does not want Daniel to stop. 

"This mission's for two days, Jack," Daniel's voice is only a decibel above a whisper. "For two days we won't be able to do this." There is the wet sound of kissing. "Or this." Clothing rustles, flesh is petted.

"Daniel," Jack's voice has dropped even deeper and has taken on an urgency that is practically comic. "Not here," he hisses.

I take ten extremely quiet steps backward, then come clomping down the corridor. When I get to the office, Daniel is sitting in front of the computer, just as he was when I left. Jack's massaging his forehead as if he has a headache. His shirt is no longer tucked neatly inside his pants.

This is going to take some getting used to.

* * *

PFF whatever was pfffft. Plain old people, no Go'auld, no naquada, no news is good news. On to P2G2 885. I still don't get how they code these planets. This planet is more promising with high levels of naquada in the soil, signs of Go'auld (though not in several generations,) a temple, (Daniel maintains it's a mastaba,) with carvings all over it. We stay a few days, pitching tents closer to the mastaba than to the small rather medieval town. I don't want to drink from their well. The townies tell plague stories that give me the willies. 

Teal'c and I are in one tent, Jack and Daniel are in the other. Jack and Daniel, Daniel and Jack. The colonel and Dr. Jackson. Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson almost always share a tent. Teal'c and I have gotten used to it. These days we even undress in front of each other without a second thought. Sometimes I wake in the night and see Teal'c's hulking form in the darkness. Knowing I'm safe, I go right back to sleep. I've gotten so used to him, he's like a brother. Daniel, my other brother, is screwing our C.O. 

But not planetside. 

Forgive me if I am freaking out a bit here. I have a desperate urge to look over at my tentmate and ask, "So, Teal'c are you aware DanielJackson and O'Neill are getting it on when we aren't looking?" Fortunately, Teal'c is sitting Kel No Reem. Anyway, he'd probably just ask me what I meant by getting it on. 

As I mentioned before, there was a time not so long ago when I contemplated "getting it on" with Jack. Inside my head, he was two different men. "Jack" and "the colonel." When I finally realized this, I knew what an idiot I was being. Still, Jack is an attractive man and as members of the same SG team, we live in and out of each other's pockets. It took a while for us to come to our senses. But the bottom line was, we were both too military to do anything more than think about it. Nuff said. 

But Jack and Daniel? I can understand it from Daniel's point of view. I mean, I'm the other science geek on the team, albeit the female one, and I fell for the Great O'Neill, so it makes sense that he would too, right? I've watched men and women alike follow the good Dr. Jackson with lascivious eyes. I've seen Daniel look back at both sexes, but I've never seen him take action. While he is very good at emoting when it's about work, he tends to back-pedal when confronted with sexual passion. Jack is..., safe, maybe?

I've never noticed the colonel look at another man before. But it's obvious he's done a lot more than look at Daniel. 

Jack was putty in Daniel's hands the other night. But isn't he always?

Jack is simplistic, funny, never boring, deceptively clear-cut in his thinking, loyal, and military to the core.

Daniel is complex, with a sense of humor bordering on wry; he loves to think in layers but can cut through the crap when he wants to. He is loyal to a fault, and hasn't a militaristic bone in his body.

Yeah, okay, I can see it. I can see the attraction between them.

I can also see directly into the other tent this evening. Okay, not *into* the tent, but the thing is totally backlit by the campfire a group of our teenage "helpers" from the nearby town are sitting around.

I can see Daniel stripping off his pants. He bends over because one foot is obviously stuck in the cuff, but Jack gets to it first. The colonel kneels in front of his partner, gives a tug and Daniel's foot is free. But the pants are dropped unheeded to the tent floor, and Dr. Jackson goes to his knees and leans in toward Colonel O'Neill for one quick kiss, and then they get up and go to their respective sleeping bags.

The other bottom line is, it's a cold, harsh, lonely world, why shouldn't they take love where it's given? 

I turn back to find Teal'c is no longer deep in meditation and has been watching me look into the other tent. He has the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. I grin wickedly back at him and he raises one eyebrow. I shrug. Teal'c relaxes his shoulders and prepares to lie down on his sleeping bag. I close my eyes and drop into sleep.


End file.
